Bad Boy 2 Read online

  BAD BOY PART 2:

  Naughty at Night

  by Jamie Lake

  Note: This is Book #2 in the Naughty at Night Series. To read the first book, go here: http://www.bit.ly/BADBOYNOVEL1

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  CHAPTER 1

  “Peter?” Chip asked, dropping his wide smile, gripping the bouquet of flowers in his hand. “What’s up?” His brows furrowed and he nervously messed with his short ginger hair. Peter knew Chip was confident in his looks; he was young and built. His bright blue eyes dimmed as he glanced at Tony, surveying the man’s wide shoulders and clear olive complexion.

  Meanwhile, Peter stood there just inside the house in his sweats and nothing else. His shoulders wilted. He knew Chip’s words were more than just a friendly salutation; his bright eyes were clouded with hurt and confusion and just a little bit of anger. They were supposed to be on a date. Peter looked down at his watch. Chip was at least an hour early.

  And Tony, well, Tony was a better actor. Not a hair of his salt-and-pepper black mane was out of place, and if he was jealous, he wasn’t showing it. He flexed his large shoulders and looked back and forth between the younger men in front of him.

  Peter felt very uncomfortable, being so undressed in front of the put-together-looking men.

  “Peter? I keep calling you Spencer.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Silly me. Yeah, Peter, what’s up?”

  “I-I-I …” Peter stuttered. He’d never given Tony his working name. He wondered how in the world he could know that.

  “You didn’t tell me you were going to have company,” Tony said, putting on a nonchalant smile. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have come.” He rubbed his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair and looked at Peter expectantly.

  Peter wanted to snap at Tony and tell him that technically, he’d never been invited over. The handsome older man was staring him down, as if daring him to do so. Ignoring him with difficulty, Peter focused on Chip again. He was who he’d been looking forward to greeting at the door when Tony had showed up, unannounced, to demand a massage in exchange for not leaking Peter’s “extra-curricular” activities to the public.

  Peter could see the anger in Chip’s eyes, and he stepped forward, trying to reach out to Chip. “No, I…”

  “I’m sorry to come so early,” Chip said, backing away from the door. He was obviously very uncomfortable. “I was in the neighborhood, and I brought a copy of Family Guy. I remember you said it was your favorite, Peter. I didn’t even know that you knew Mr. Martinelli, but I can come back later, if you’re…not busy…”

  Peter smiled at his thoughtfulness and ran his fingers through his wavy dark hair. He’d been looking forward to some alone time with Chip. If only he could get rid of Tony.

  “No, don’t be ridiculous,” Tony answered for him. “I was just leaving. I just swung by to...uh...offer Petey an opportunity.” It was clear that Tony wasn’t going to let the situation slip out of his control. That had been a turn-on for their last night together, but at the moment, it was frustrating and scary.

  “An opportunity?” Chip said, confused.

  Peter panicked. Was Tony about to completely “out” him to Chip? After all, Chip was a police officer, and a father of one of the little kids who Peter taught. If Tony revealed that he’d been an online hookup for Peter, it might throw his job into jeopardy.

  “Yeah, I uh...have a part-time position opening up at the casino that I thought Petey would be perfect for.” Tony gave the two men an award-winning smile.

  Peter had to admit that he had a way of charming people and lying through his teeth. He swore they could all hear his dry swallow. He felt like he was choking on a frog.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you were looking for extra work,” Chip said. “I guess teachers don’t make that much, do they?”

  “Teacher?” Tony said with a surprise. “I thought you said you worked for an insurance company? Silly me.”

  Peter blushed. He’d told Tony he worked in insurance to keep him from knowing what he really did for a living. Tony was supposed to only be a one-time hookup, then an erotic massage client, and absolutely nothing else.

  “Yeah, he’s my son’s kindergarten teacher,” Chip went on, not noticing the horror in Peter’s eyes. “Johnny just loves him. So do all the other kids. He’s so great with those kids.”

  Tony gave Peter a malicious smile. “So, Mr. Petey’s a kindergarten teacher. How sweet,” he said innocuously.

  “Actually, Mr. Vanderbilt, that’s what the kids call him. Poor Johnny, my son, he can barely pronounce it.”

  Chip chuckled and Tony chuckled with him.

  “Vanderbilt...Mr. Peter Vanderbilt...Nice,” Tony said, making the connection between Peter and his family name.

  Peter didn’t know whether to lean against the wall or collapse.

  “What’s the matter, Petey? You look flushed,” Tony said, pinning him with his stare.

  “No, I’m just not...feeling that well.”

  “Well, hope you feel better. We have a lot to discuss next time I see you. Take care. See ya, Detective Johnson,” Tony said, giving him a wink and shaking Chip’s hand as he exited.

  “Good night, Mr. Martinelli,” Chip said.

  CHAPTER 2

  Chip closed the door as Peter somehow found a seat on the small living room’s only couch. He barely noticed the fraying cotton scratching his skin. This turn of events had left him dumbfounded and shocked.

  He must have looked like he’d just been hit in the head with a concrete slab. He was feeling light-headed. Shit. What would Tony do with all that information? He didn’t look as pissed as Peter knew that he was. Tony was the type of guy who wouldn’t explode unless necessary. He was the type of guy who would explode inside, and when you’d least expect it, Pow! He’d slice you across the throat.

  “Are you alright?” Chip strode across the room and placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You don’t look so good. Are you going to throw up or something?” His face was crinkled in beautiful concern. Peter looked up and couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his soft eyes. He wished Tony had never come over.

  “Really, Pete, you don’t look good. Let me get you some water.” Chip made his way into the kitchen. He placed the bouquet and DVD down on the counter and started searching for some cups.

  Peter closed his eyes for a moment and let the panic wash over him. There was nothing he could do now. He listened to Chip struggling to find the cup cabinet for a second longer, then called out, “No, I’m...I’m fine.”

  “You sure do get around,” Chip yelled from the kitchen. Apparently he hadn’t heard Peter’s response through his search.

  “What?” Peter said back louder. Had he heard correctly what Chip had said? What was that supposed to mean? Peter shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He didn’t want Chip thinking he got around with a bunch of different guys; that wasn’t the case at all.

  “No, I mean, you know so many people. How do you know Mr. Martinelli?” Chip asked. The conversation was cut off by the blaring of the tap. Peter could see him, through the doorway, filling two glasses for them. Then he found a third and filled it half- way and stood the flowers up in it. Peter smiled at the thoughtful gesture. Chip turned around and asked, “Ice or no ice?”

  “Oh, no ice, thank you.” Peter genuinely smiled at the sweet treatment. He tried to stall and think of how to answer Chip’s first question. “I...uh...don’t remember exactly how I met him.”

  “No?” Chip said, coming out from the kitchen and carrying the glass of water to him. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks,” Peter said, nervously gulping it down. “Can I take your jacket for you, please?” Chip smiled and slipped off his jacket. Peter stood up on shaky legs and took it from him. He wa
lked across the small living room and hung the jacket up properly on the coat hooks by the door. Peter was sloshing the contents of his cup all over the floor because his hand was shaking so much. He tried to cover it up by taking a long swig and sitting back down on the couch.

  “Damn, slow it down,” Chip said, sitting next to him and gently rubbing his back. His touch felt so good, and was just what Peter needed right now. “Oh, well, if you want to do this another night...?” Chip suggested, concerned.

  “No, please, I’ll be fine,” Peter said, although truth be told, he kind of wanted to be alone after all this. But he just didn't think it would be fair to send Chip all the way home after he’d come all this way.

  “Good, well I’m here for you,” Chip said, patting Peter on the thigh. His touch sent warm shivers down his spine.

  Peter looked into his eyes, and his statement seemed to carry a lot more weight than just the superficial words suggested. Chip was regaining some of the sly charm to his smile.

  “Thanks,” Peter said, putting his glass down on the beat-up wooden coffee table in front of them.

  It was clear that Chip was ready to put Tony’s distraction behind them. “It’s really good to see you,” Chip said, with a sexy smile. “I’m glad you’re finally letting me come over.” His eyes were so gentle and genuine.

  “Good to see you too.” The two of them just looked at each other. Peter had to admit that Chip’s gorgeous blue eyes were making him hard. How could just looking into someone’s eyes, without him even touching me, make me hard? Peter wondered. But it was happening right now. Peter had never noticed the dark flecks in Chip’s otherwise light blue eyes.

  “You feeling better now?” Chip asked, breaking the silence, running his fingertips across Peter’s thigh. Suddenly he remembered how undressed he was.

  “Starting to, yeah.”

  A smirk spread across Chip’s face, and he chuckled.

  “What?” Peter asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  “You have...uh …” Chip licked the end of his thumb, then reached over to Peter and wiped the side of his mouth. The touch across his lips sent tingles down his body, and he was getting harder, until Chip said, “uh…dried drool on your mouth.”

  Peter gasped. Shit.

  He shot up. He hadn’t even had a chance to get himself ready for their dinner date since he was awakened from his nap by Tony’s untimely and uninvited arrival. It was supposed to be hours later.

  “Oh my God. I, uh... was actually taking a nap when you got here. Do you mind if I go put on something else?” Peter looked down at his bare chest, embarrassed at his appearance.

  Chip laughed at the idea of Peter asking for permission in his own apartment. “Whatever you want, Pete.”

  “Just let me go to the bathroom. I feel so embarrassed.”

  Chip rose with him. “It’s all right. It’s no big deal. It’s good to see you in your...natural state. I kind of like it.” At any other time, Peter would have blushed at the compliment.

  "I mean, I didn’t even brush my teeth or... Just give me like, 15 minutes... No, 10.”

  “No worries,” Chip said, chuckling again. He had the sexiest, deepest laugh Peter had ever heard, but he was too embarrassed by his appearance to stay long enough to enjoy it.

  Peter slipped off the couch and disappeared into his room. He’d been meaning to clean up before Chip arrived, but it was too late now. He threw a soft cotton shirt over his toned abs. Pete wondered if it had been his imagination, or if Chip had been checking him out from the kitchen.

  “Be right back. Make yourself at home,” Peter said, rushing out of the living room and into his bedroom. He closed the door and sighed.

  Chip’s voice came from the living room. “You probably just need some air. Want me to open the windows or something? It’s a little stuffy in here.”

  “No, not unless you want to,” Peter said. “I mean, you’re welcome to.” He slumped into the bathroom to clean himself up.

  “Jesus Christ,” Peter said to himself, running his fingers through his hair and running the bathroom faucet. He grabbed his old socks off the white tile floor and threw them into the hamper. A used towel was hanging out of the sink down the white counter. He used it to wipe up the water from where he’d shaved that morning and hung it over the hook on the back of the door.

  He looked at his dishevelled appearance in the mirror above the sink. Chip was right: dry drool everywhere. How embarrassing. This whole night was turning into a disaster. Jesus, how pathetic I must look to Chip.

  Peter lit a few candles across the counter so at least the place would smell nicer.

  How could this night get any worse? Sure, Tony hadn’t said anything to Chip about who he was, or about the fact he was secretly doing erotic massages at night while teaching kindergartners during the day. Still, now Tony knew his real name and occupation. It wouldn’t be too difficult to make the connection between him and the powerful Vanderbilt family. This was not good: not good at all. Something in the pit of Peter’s stomach told him that this could all go down really badly.

  He knew Tony wasn’t happy about another man being in the house, especially someone who he seemed to know, and by the way, how was it the two of them knew each other so well? Peter wondered.

  He ran his hands under the pouring faucet and washed his face with his apricot facial scrub. He had very little money, but one could not go without Clinique facial products. It was in the gay man’s rule book. Chapter 4, verse 21, he chuckled to himself.

  He lathered up the soap and rinsed as he wondered what the hell he was doing with his life. He’d be thirty years old in a few years, and he was a part-time kindergarten teacher, and now part-time erotic masseuse, as of almost a week ago. This was not exactly how he’d planned his life.

  He knew he had a good man over at his house now: the type you could settle down with and marry. He even had a kid, which was his dream, because Peter had always wanted to be a dad. The guy was perfect, and maybe he was getting too far ahead of himself, but a man could dream, couldn’t he?

  But all of it would come completely unraveled in seconds if Tony got angry enough one day to tell Chip. Chip, the detective in the ex-prostitution unit. Oh, and Chip, the same one who commented about how much he loathed hookers just the other day. Peter imagined that this was how Chip knew Tony. The casino probably had a big problem with call girls hanging around. Chip would definitely not understand what Peter was doing, and that it wasn’t prostitution at all; it was only erotic massages. Maybe he should have listened to his parents and joined their prestigious law firm; then maybe he’d be living another life. He wouldn’t be here, stuck between a rock and a hard place, with his roommate threatening to kick him out in a few days if he didn’t pay his half of the rent.

  The panic rushed to Peter’s head so quickly that he was going to get a headache if he didn’t calm down.

  He wondered what Chip was doing out there all alone. He knew he’d been in the bathroom too long and felt he was being rude to his house guest. Chip had come all that way across town with flowers. Peter couldn't even remember the last time a man brought him flowers.

  Peter shut the faucet off and dried his face. "What do you want me to do about it?” Chip’s voice came from the living room. Peter could hear him now that the faucet noise was off.

  “What’s that?” Peter asked, turning back to the bedroom and making his way towards Chip. Peter heard a beeping noise. “Oh shit!” he said.

  It was his laptop dinging on the dining table. The same laptop he forgot to shut off: the one that had his nude erotic profile opened on to the gay dating site.

  “Yo, Peter. Your laptop is dinging. Let me turn it off for you.”

  Peter gasped. Please God, no!

  CHAPTER 3

  Peter rocketed out of the bathroom. He had to make it across his bedroom and to the dining room table without making a scene that would cause Chip to be suspicious. Even at a leisurely pace, Chip was obviously going to get to
the laptop before Peter. There was nothing he could do, but he could try. His heart racing, he skidded towards the open door.

  Trying to maneuver around the bed frame in his room, Peter took an unbalanced step and rolled onto his right ankle. To keep his full weight from snapping down on the ankle, he had to take a wide step with his left foot, causing him to slam his knee hard into the bed post. He felt the jolt vibrate through the bone, and Peter fell down to all fours.

  “Ow!” He cradled his knee and tried to massage out the pain. The quick yelp caught Chip’s attention. His red hair and smiling face appeared around the edge of the bedroom door.

  “Are you alright?” Chip asked, arching his brow in concern.

  They both looked down at the tear in Peter’s sweatpants. Blood was already flowing out of the nasty gash on his knee. Peter felt lightheaded at the sight of so much blood.

  “Shit,” Peter said, “I mean, shoot, sorry. Didn’t mean to swear.”

  “Of course not, no.” Chip dismissed the apology with a shake of his head. “You’re talking to a cop here. You can bet I’ve heard a lot worse. Shit is right. We should take you to a doctor.” Chip reached down and pulled Peter up to his feet, already moving the two of them toward the front door.

  Peter had to pull back. “No...I…” He didn’t want to tell him, but he couldn’t afford a doctor’s visit even if he wanted to go. He hadn’t been working at the school long enough for his health benefits to kick in, and he certainly didn’t just have the money laying around. That, coupled with the fact that his back rent was due, wasn’t a good combination.

  “You’re one of those, aren’t you?” Chip narrowed his eyes, but stopped pulling on Peter’s arm.

  “One of what?” Peter asked, seething in pain, trying to hide how much it really hurt.

  “One of those people who’s scared of the doctors?” Chip clarified.

  Peter sighed with relief. “I guess. I mean, isn’t everyone?” Peter almost laughed at the idea of being afraid of a doctor, but he was glad Chip hadn’t guessed the real reason for his alarm.